I went back to my parent's house and returned a bit after one p.m. when I arrived, I said a brief hello to my parents before heading upstairs, almost tempted to stuff my bag under my shirt as I went. I dashed up the steps, tapping on Franklin's door to tell him that I was back before going into my bedroom. I locked the door behind me like a paranoid teenage girl before placing my bag on my bed and plopping down upon it myself.

I allowed myself half an hour to forty-five minutes to cool off, check some emails or other urgent messages before taking a thorough shower. Peeking into my work email, I was a bit surprised to find a question from Annette asking if she could help with the poetry unit by bring in some of her favorite poems. I replied that it was very kind of her to offer, and that I would welcome that. I asked her if she wanted to meet half an hour before class to compare the poems and that, between us, we could come up with a wonderful selection.

I found that Dean Channing had sent me an email formally welcoming me back to school the following day. He informed me that if I needed another week off that it would be fine, that Annette was doing exceptionally well and that I could have more time to get my affairs in order. I replied that I was better now, and that I was fully prepared to return the following day. I knew that many people would be worried if their teaching assistant would take over their class, but I knew Annette better than that.

I also found an email from Richard, informing me that he would arrive at precisely three-forty-five to pick me up. Seeing that it was getting close to two already, I let out a small shriek and ran from my computer and to the bathroom. Quickly slamming the door shut behind me, I turned on the water to adjust it to the proper temperature. I stripped quickly and stepped in, savoring the warm water on my skin, the bruises of Nathan's newest assault beginning to yellow in some places, and I hoped that it wouldn't be a turn off to Richard. I lifted the newest breast that Nathan had bitten, and winced a little in pain, both physical and emotional, at my rather devastating predicament ahead of me, but hoped that powder would help diminish it.

I allowed myself to stand just beneath the stream of water, nibbling my lip as I wondered what Richard would want to do to me. I considered the odds and ends of sex itself, and thought of anything and everything that could possibly transpire between us. Shivering at the thought of being all-consumed by him, I found I was completely shaking under the heat of the stream of water. I made a grab for my loofah and scrubbed myself all over with my vanilla-scented body wash before massaging my scalp expertly with some frou-frou conditioner that Caroline had insisted I buy.

I reached from the shower and into the cupboard where, directly next to the towels, I kept my waxing strips. I placed them on the counter and bit my lip again, knowing I would not be looking forward to what lay ahead. In the meanwhile, I shaved under my arms and my legs, all the while, allowing my subconscious to fill with a certain amount of trepidation. I was excited about tonight, I assured myself.

Once done with that, I turned off the water and stepped to the edge of the shower, making a grab for my towel and wrapping myself in its soft folds as I stepped out. Hastily drying myself on the bath mat, I got out my hair dryer from under the sink and my sometimes elusive brush from the counter. It took me a full thirty minutes to blow-dry my hair and, combined with my shower time of twenty minutes, I found that left me exactly fifteen minutes to appear presentable.

Quickly placing the uncomfortable curlers in my hair, I went out into my bedroom where Richard said that he was getting some Sunday traffic and that he'd be a bit behind, but he was on his way. I smirked at that, the notion that Richard could be anything but perfect hardly weighing on me at all. It was refreshing, I thought, I have someone as amazing as him getting involved with Sunday traffic, and it warmed me to sense even a little normalcy within his professionalism.

Dashing back into the bathroom, I shut the door again. Spacing my legs properly apart, I removed a waxing strip from the box. Removing it from its individual casing was itself annoying, and, finally, I was able to position it precisely where I needed it to work. Angling it between my legs, I pressed it firmly down onto my skin, forcing myself not to tense up as I knew the pain would come. Counting to two and a half minutes in my head, and, once that was done, I pulled it off as hard and as fast as I could.

"Fuck!" I hissed, punching the wall. "Dammit..." Looking around to make sure I hadn't disturbed anyone, I proceeded with the next strip, and the next. All in all, I needed five or so strips to get the job done, and I was relieved to use the cooling lotion that came with the case. I exited the bathroom then, allowing the lotion to soak into my skin properly as I removed the lingerie from the bag and clipped its tags with my handy scissors.

Checking my phone again, Richard informed me that he would be along in about ten minutes. I wriggled into my lingerie and then found the dress that he'd asked me to wear in my wardrobe. This time, I was thankful that there was no back zipper, so nobody would properly see the skimpy outfit before Richard. I found a pair of black heels and then returned to the bathroom, brushing my teeth before putting on some perfectly subtle baby pink lip gloss, the right amount of blush, mascara, eye liner, and some golden eyeshadow. I returned to my bedroom and put the golden locket around my neck and checked my phone, grinning like an idiotic teenage girl when Richard said he was just around the block.

Isn't there some rule about texting while driving? I wrote to him. Do you own a series of streets now?

No, Seraphina, I own no streets. You'll just have to wait and see.

"Ooh, a surprise," I said, grinning at the thought of it.

I never liked surprises growing up, but one from Richard would definitely be worth waiting for. I returned to the bathroom a final time to allow my hair to fall down about my face, across my shoulders, and down my back before there was a tap at my door. I turned around then, I knew I had to answer it, for even I didn't know who it could be.

"Coming!" I cried, shutting off the bathroom light and going to open it. "Hey," I said, nodding at the autumn suit Franklin was wearing. "Nice."

Franklin rolled his eyes at my compliment. "Got it for a benefit dinner for the hospital in New York," he explained, shrugging his shoulders. "Richard is here for you. He's waiting in the living room with Mom, Dad, and Caroline," he informed me, putting out his arm to walk me down the stairs.

I pulled on a simple black wrap before grabbing my phone and putting it into my purse, shutting off the light and following him, closing the door behind the pair of us. "I promise, I won't do anything stupid like asking you to announce me," I whispered to him as we walked towards the stairs.

Franklin chuckled. "Hey, Richard may treat you like a princess, but that doesn't mean I have to," he replied as we descended the stairs. We walked through the lobby of the house and into the living room, where everyone got to their feet, and Franklin immediately left my side to stand with Caroline.

Richard grinned at me, approaching me and taking my hand. "Ready?" he asked, looking as if he would eat me alive.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good. I've given your father and Caroline the address, and so they should find the house with no problem."

I nodded, turning to my family. "I guess we'll see you there."

My parents, Caroline, and Franklin nodded. My mother looked prepared to shoo me away good naturedly. My father looked ready to steal me from Richard's arms. Caroline looked excited for what lay ahead. And Franklin looked ready to be alone with her.

We walked out of the house and down the cobblestone path to the edge of the garden and the white picket fence. There before us was a 2016 black Bentley Mulsanne Speed Beluga Edition, and a man in a suit waiting for the two of us, it seemed. "Briggs," Richard said, his tone almost affectionate as he nodded to the middle-aged man as we approached. "This is Seraphina Richardson."

"How do you do, Miss Richardson?" Briggs replied with a smile, opening one of the back doors. "Please."

I smiled at the hospitality. "Thank you, Briggs," I replied, accepting his hand, much larger than my own, to get me into the car. Once I was in, he shut it behind me, and I buckled my seat belt as Richard came in the other side and sat beside me. "What's all this?" I asked as Briggs took the front seat.

"Briggs is my driver," Richard replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "But, your car..."

He grinned at my innocence. "Perks of being very rich," he replied, running his hand briefly over the fine, black leather material. "Briggs is my close friend of many years, assistant, right-hand man, and driver. Sometimes I don't like to drive, especially to my parent's house. I like to be places promptly, and Briggs knows direct routes."

I nod, feeling secure as Richard takes my hand and tucks it in his own. We leave the Sunset Hill neighborhood and drive along the street at a reasonable pace and soon we have connected with Fifteenth Avenue once again. Rather than go Downtown via the Ballard Bridge, we cross to Aurora Avenue and eventually end up on the 5 freeway from there. We go south, and soon end up passing the University District, and very soon, are driving in the heart of Downtown Seattle, but Briggs doesn't get off the freeway.

Continuing, we get on a bridge that leads us to the west and towards Bellevue, yet I know we aren't going there. We stay on the impressive bridge, however, and soon get off before the Bellevue or Issaquah exits. We get up into the hills, the trees all around us incredible, so part of me wonders if woodland creatures will appear to us. We soon come upon a cobblestone road, and get into some older houses of the area, and soon we pull up at two sandstone gate posts, ornately carved, with lions poised on the top.

Briggs is buzzed in and we drive up the cobblestone road, which curves into a half circle shape as we get closer to the house. The second set of lion's rest on white marble, almost as if they will ward off solicitors from the property. The marble stone steps curve on each side, giving the home—a red brick mansion which reminds me of the architecture of Ivy Door Academy—a welcoming feel to it, despite the carnivorous beasts stationed outside.

The door opens and five people come across the threshold as Richard helps me from the vehicle, and I know immediately who they are. Stephanie and Paul quickly come out from behind the trio, Stephanie waving prettily at me and whispering something to the striking blonde woman in front, who, as soon as she's nodded to Stephanie, comes down the steps toward us. There is no hesitation in her step, nor in her bearing, as she walks towards us, and I find myself face to face with Mrs. Berkshaw for the first time.

"Mother," Richard says, walking me with him towards her.

"Richard," she says, kissing his cheek affectionately and looking up at him. "You're looking well, dear—very well."

"Doing my best to appear so," he replies.

She turns to me, shining blue eyes meeting mine, a look of what seems to be pure awe upon her face. "Is this her?" she asks, looking me up and down, a glow of happiness emanating from her.

"Indeed it is," Richard says proudly. "Mother, this is Seraphina Richardson. Sarah, this is Adelaide Berkshaw, my mother."

I do my best to smile at her. "Mrs. Berkshaw, it is an honor and a privilege to meet you," I reply, putting out my hand.

"Oh, you too, my dear. And call me Adelaide, please," she replies, taking my right hand and shaking it normally before lovingly covering it with her other manicured one. She looks me up and down again, looking more than a little pleased, the term satisfaction coming readily to mind. "Aren't you delightful? She's delightful, Richard, really. Stephanie told us you're Harrison's teacher."

I nodded. "I am, at Ivy Door Academy," I reply.

"Do you like it there?" she asks, locking my arm in hers and walking with me up the steps to the house. "Is it a good fit?"

"An excellent fit," I say. "I love the children dearly."

"Loving children is a main part of the job, or so I hear. Oh, Thomas, do say hello," Adelaide says to her husband.

"Mr. Berkshaw, it's lovely to meet you," I say to him.

"It's Thomas, of course," he says firmly, smiling so that his eyes twinkle. He has light brown hair mixed with silver and resembles Paul the most, while Ivana is the spitting image of her mother as a young woman. "Enchanted," he tells me, gently kissing my cheek and then pulling me back to get a good look at me. "Richard, she's lovely."

"I think so," Richard says proudly, clapping Paul on the shoulder, and kissing Ivana's and Stephanie's cheeks.

"Ivana, please, say something," Adelaide scolds lightly.

"Ciao!" Ivana replies enthusiastically, grabbing me and holding me to her. "I am so eccitato that you're here! Mamma mia, I didn't know I'd have to wait this long to make your better acquaintance! Richard is right, you are such a bella ragazza in floral patterns!"

Richard pulls a face and manages to get me back on his arm as we pass over the threshold and into the foyer. Two grand cherry wood staircases, one to the left, the other to the right, make two ends of the room. We walk below them, past the living room, family room, what appears to be a game room, and a small kitchen. Adelaide tells me that this kitchen is just for show, that the larger one is behind the double doors that we pass by. On the other side of the kitchen is the formal dining room, and beyond the game room is the exit to the pool house, where some of Ivana's parties are held.

There is a general room at the back of the house, a wide-open space which is a sitting room, and beyond that is Thomas's study. We walk out two French doors onto a massive back garden, a stone fountain center stage. Cobblestones make up the walk-ways, and some pristine-looking bushes dot the edges of the land making up the garden. At the edge of it is a hedge maze, which Thomas seems to be very proud of; a conservatory is just to the left of the maze, its windows glinting like diamonds in the sunshine. Beyond the maze and the conservatory are the expansive grounds, and I can just make out the horse stables to the right, and I hear soft whinnies beyond.

Marlee and Timothy cross the garden from a press of people to greet us, and I am relieved when Marlee gives me a hug. "You were very brave the other night," she whispers into my ear, "very calm under pressure. I spoke with the DA, and he says he has enough to arrest Nathan. They're going to do it tomorrow afternoon."

"No sting operation?" I whisper back.

"None," she replies, giving me one final squeeze before hugging Richard. "DA Redgrave is doing the arrest tomorrow," she whispers to him.

Richard nods. "Good. Good man."

"Is he?" I asked, never having heard of him.

Richard nods in affirmative. "Yes. Charles Redgrave is one of the top-five DA's in Washington State, Sarah. We're in good hands."

"No business at the party," Adelaide says firmly, tutting disapprovingly as one of the family butler's approaches with champagne. "To Seraphina, a lovely young woman for my darling boy!" she says.

I blush and sip at my drink, wondering where my family is as Marlee and Timothy withdraw to chat with other friends. My fears aren't founded, for they are shown by a maid into the party just a moment later. I watch as Adelaide Berkshaw hands her champagne glass to someone before approaching my mother, Ivana trailing in her wake. I grip onto Richard's hand, and I find he is watching them, too.

"Mrs. Richardson, it is an honor to meet you," Adelaide says, practically shaking with unexpected excitement. "I'm Adelaide Berkshaw."

My mother smiles, taking her offered hand. "A pleasure, Adelaide, and please, feel free to call me Matilda," she replies.

"I'm Ivana," says the youngest Berkshaw shyly to my mother. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Richardson."

"Ah, Ivana," my mother says happily to Richard's younger sister. "It's wonderful to meet you, my dear. You may call me Matilda as well."

I am amused when Caroline asks Ivana about her studies abroad, and then it turns into a full-fledged interview about the differences of Italian culture versus American culture. Ivana explains that she's learned to make pasta ala vodka the best in her class, and that her teacher is most impressed with her. Caroline takes out her notepad to jot down some quick ideas about what her next article could be, while Dad and Franklin meet Thomas and Paul respectively, chatting up about their respective careers. Stephanie trails after Caroline and Ivana, eager to speak about a trip to Paris she took two years ago.

"Why don't I give you a tour of the place?" Richard whispers.

It doesn't take me a moment to feel goose bumps on my neck at the sensation of his hot breath there. "I think I would like that," I reply.

Richard takes my arm and leads me down the stairs of the terrace and into the garden proper. We go around the side of the house and he takes me to a side door, which opens with ease. He quickly shuts it behind us, and I am awed at the cherry wood shelves around us, full of expensive bottles. Richard explains that this is the wine cellar, and then takes my hand and gently pulls me up the stairs into the house.

We go along a hallway before he takes me into another room, which I almost immediately manage to identify as the game room, due to the decent-sized pool table in the center of the room, made out of cherry wood. There was a shelf in one corner, each individual shelf filled with classic board games. A window, which gave us wonderful light and a quick look at the garden outside, illuminated a small circular table top with three chairs, one for each of the Berkshaw children.

Through the game room, we came upon the living room with a long modern couch and a flat screen T.V. mounted on the wall. Sports paraphernalia—manly of the Mariners and the Seahawks—littered the mantle and other locations of the room. I watched as Richard made a face at all the sporting goods, and my heart leapt—I wasn't a sports fan either.

"The formal living room is through there," Richard said, pointing in the opposite direction as we left the sports room, going along the hallway towards the front door. We went up one of the staircases and up to the floor with the bedrooms, passing by the master wing where Thomas and Adelaide slept. "The wing above the conservatory is Ivana's," Richard said as we walked. "The one above the pool house is Paul's. And my wing has a private entryway to the library," he tells me, grinning.

"You have a library?!" I cry.

Richard chuckles. "Yes. I'll show you later." We walk around one corner, and down another hallway, before coming to a cherry wood door with impressive wood paneling. Richard reaches into his pocket, taking out an old brass key and unlocking the door to his childhood bedroom. "I come here some weekends to work, for the quiet atmosphere," he tells me as we step inside.

He turns on the light, pointing to a door at the other end of the room, which he tells me is the entryway to the library. There is a walk-in closet on the opposite side, and, by his bed, an en suite bathroom. His bed is a queen-sized one, just like mine at home, and I love the fact that we won't be cramped there. He shuts and locks the door behind us as I cross the room and look out of the window, seeing some guests of the party below.

"Don't worry, they won't cut the cake without us," he tells me, and I shiver at the sensation of his breath on my neck again.

The notion of having two forms of sugar in one day nearly manages to send me over the sweet edge. "There's cake?" I ask.

"Mainly petit fours and macaroons that Ivana made," Richard explains, putting an arm around my waist. "My mother always has the cooks make some Southern tea cakes for the occasion. They're like cookies."

"Can they see us from up here?" I ask.

He shakes his head, running his hands along the small of my back. "No. The light doesn't reflect very well out there, due to the sunlight."

I smile, turning to face him. "I'm glad."

I look up into his eyes, and I find I've never felt safer in my life. I shut my eyes in comfort as he places a hand on my cheek, and I stand on my toes to kiss him. His arms come around my waist as he lifts me into his arms, carrying me to the bed, and I manage to turn off the light as we walk by. He chuckles into my mouth at that, sending delicious chills up and down my spine as he lays me back onto the bed. My head makes contact with a pillow, and I manage to kick off my heels as I attempt to wrap my legs around his waist.

Richard pulls away for a moment, removing his shirt and staring at me for a moment in the darkness. He turns on the bedside table lamp onto the low setting, and I blush, my skirt hiked up past my knees. "I want to look at you, Seraphina," he says reassuringly, leaning down to kiss me again.

"No, you don't..." I whisper.

Richard locks eyes with mine. "I do," he assures me.

I wrap my arms around him then, finding that I am savoring muscles on his back, shaking in utter and complete excitement. He withdraws his arms from around me, unzipping his pants and unbuckling his belt, and even manages to remove his shoes and socks without disturbing me or interrupting our kissing. I sit up, taking the locket from around my neck and push him away.

I shoot him a smile to show him that I still want him. Carefully, I remove my dress and pull the lingerie down, smiling up at him as I sit there, wearing only that and a pair of panties. I watch as his eyes widen, mouth slightly open as he shudders in a moment of arousal. It makes me aroused that I can have that effect on him, and I reach out to him, and he reaches up and under my lingerie to remove my panties, and I let him.

"You're beautiful," he whispers against my skin, taking one of my hands in his, kissing it—my fingertips, the inside of my palm, my wrist, upwards, to my shoulder, and into my neck. I feel myself gasp as his tongue escapes from between his lips and tastes my collarbone. "I know I'm never going to tire of making love to you," he declares, going to my other side and then slowly proceeds down my right arm, sending goosebumps and shivers through me.

I reach out and remove his boxer shorts, and there he is, naked before me. I see from a glint in his dark eyes that he wants me, and gently takes off my lingerie outfit before lying me down on the bed. He kisses down from my lips, to my neck, to my collarbone, and along the tops of my breasts before going lower, and gently takes one of my breasts into his mouth. I gasp, savoring the rippling sensation that rips through me then, never wanting it to end. He does the same to my second breast, and I find I am in ecstasy at what his mouth has the capability of doing.

I arch my back, wanting him to consume me completely, and to never release me from his wanting mouth. "Richard..." I whisper. "I know," he whispers. "I know, Sarah." I hear a tearing sound then, and I know he is putting on a condom. He gently takes a hold of my hips and strokes them briefly, playing with my breasts as he enters me.

I gasp aloud, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him with a kind of reckless abandon that a teenager would do during car sex. I pull him closer to me, and I feel how hard he is inside me, and I almost can't believe that I could do something like that. I wrap my legs around his torso again, pulling him deeper and deeper inside me, and savoring the gentle bites he is giving my breasts and my lips.

I pull him back and forth and that, combined with his thrusts, results in the pair of us crying out in pleasure. He is gentle with me, at first, but I quickly find that I want it, I want him, harder, faster, deeper. His body responds with my own, and he doesn't even attempt to let up. Just when I think it will end, my body explodes again and again with starlight, and I find that this will never be enough. Finally, when we've reached the point of no return, we gasp aloud, each covering the other's mouth in a moment of consideration.

Richard moves off of me, lying down next to me and laughing. He takes off the condom and puts it elsewhere before turning to me. Cradling my face in his, he kisses me again. "Are you all right?"

I nodded up at him. "Who knew sex would be like that," I whisper. "Again, and again, and again... Absolutely incredible..."

His eyes widen. "You didn't? You've never..."

I push myself up a bit on the pillow. "Not like that," I reply, my eyebrows coming together at that. "I thought you understood..."

Richard reached out, touching my cheek. "It's a bittersweet thing," he said softly, his thumb lowering itself and brushing my lips.

"Because I'm no longer a sweet and innocent girl?" I ask.

"No," he replies. "You're the woman I love."

I sit up, shaking my head. "No. Don't be that guy, Richard. Any guy who says 'I love you' for the first time before, during, or after sex... Just, no. It doesn't work that way, I'm sorry," I say, and turn away from him.

Richard sighs and sits up with me, running his hands along my back. "All right, fine. Just know that I care very deeply for you, then."

I giggle quietly, turning back to look at him. "That's acceptable." I get out of bed and slip on my lingerie again and then manage to get my dress on top. I pull on my heels and watch as Richard gets dressed as well, though also notice him staring at me. I find I am completely basking in his attention, almost as if he is an addictive drug that I'll never get enough of. As if I am demanding my next fix from him, I permit myself to walk in what I believe to be a sultry manner towards the door and wait for him to unlock it.

He comes up behind me, fastening my locket about my throat before pulling me to him, a little squeal escaping my throat as his arms come about my waist, and I savor the pure and utter deliciousness of him resting his chin on my neck. "You're all mine," he whispers into my hair.

I feel my eyes rolling back in my head on a sudden wave of pleasure at the feel and the notion of his mouth on me. "Of course I am," I reply.

He turns me around and gives me another kiss before turning on the light. He shakes his head at my appearance and produces a brush from the dressing table, pulling it gently through my hair; it feels deliciously intimate, allowing him to do such a thing—the last person to brush my hair for me had been a hairdresser, and not one I particularly enjoyed; before that, it had been my mother. He then proceeds to lightly pinch my cheeks so as I appear more flushed overall and then takes my hand.

"I hope you realize that the whole party will likely make an educated guess at what we've been doing," he tells me as he unlocks the door.

I smirk. "Probably," I reply as we step out of his bedroom and back down the hallway, my heart skipping a beat as I reached for his hand. "But it's not as if we're going to announce it, are we?"

Richard scoffs. "I hardly have an Instagram account of all my sexual encounters," he replies with a smirk. "Although I did have an album titled, 'Sexy Positions'..."

I lightly smack him on the arm. "Please tell me you're joking."

A laugh just escapes his throat. "Of course I am, Sarah." He then shows me the doors of Paul's and Ivana's bedrooms so as I can get a feel for this floor of the house before taking me back into his bedroom. We go across the room to the small door and he opens it, lighting the way with the hall light.

We proceed down the narrow staircase, a spiraling one, and end up at a second door. Richard opens it for me, flicking on another light as I step in. All around me, cherry wood bookshelves greet my eye with numerous leather-bound volumes upon them. I am shocked to find that there are grand staircases here, too, and three floors of books, including the one we stand on.

On the first floor, Richard explains that mathematical, books about geography, and various forms of science are located. Almost as if to prove his point, there is a massive antique globe located in the center of the room, which I am tempted to run my fingers over, but ultimately decide against it. There is a stone fireplace on one side, and two big armchairs parallel to each other, an ottoman placed between them.

Encircling an arm around my waist, Richard told me that the second floor was for the classics, and that the top floor was reserved for everyone's favorites. He explained that there were individual sections on the top floor, and that everyone each had their own to fill with many books. I walked up the stairs to find his section on the third floor, each title in the others' sections enthralling and amusing me.

When we came to Richard's section, the very first book I saw was The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Blinking back tears, I shook my head at him, not wanting to be afraid at my reaction, but still wanting him to understand me all the same.

"What is it, Sarah? Tell me."

"That was Franklin's and my favorite story when we were children. I bought it for him as a welcome home gift on the night that..." I turned into Richard's arms, tears falling freely now, and never wanted him to let me go.

After composing one another, we returned to the party, where Ivana was showing off her wonderful Italian desserts to everyone. Many women in white suits came up to her and exclaimed that she was a true delight and visionary, and that her talent and effervescence would take her far in the world of culinary pursuits. Ivana blushed appropriately and wished everyone to try her treats.

I was thankful that Ivana seemed aware of my allergy to coconut and she didn't make me try any macaroons. I tried a vanilla-flavored petite-fours and found it to be perfect, and told Ivana that she and I should get together to cook sometime, and I was delighted that she accepted. I was also shocked that she wanted to pull me away from all the fuss she was getting; I let her take my arm and lead me out into the garden, towards the maze.

"So you and my brother?" she asked, a knowing smile coming to her face. It was plain to see that she was a miniature version of her mother. Long blonde hair framed her face and her blue eyes shone in the sunshine. Her nose turned up ever so slightly, and had a wonderful bridge to it. Her eyelashes were naturally thick and her lips her the perfect amount of fullness. "I think I've met you before, or at least seen you somewhere..."

"I saw you," I reply. "I saw you at Richard's office on Thursday. You came in all rushed and flustered."

Ivana snapped her fingers with her free hand. "That was it! You were peeking at The Seattle Sazerac when I came in!"

"Caroline writes for it," I reply. "I always like to pretend she's a random person whose work I'm privileged to read."

Ivana nodded. "I see. You must have seen me ready to pull my hair out. That was not a good day for me."

I chuckled, feeling like a complete idiot and wishing I had some kind of cocktail to knock back. "And there I was, acting so shallow, thinking that you were Richard's secret wife or something..."

She blinked. "What?"

I sighed then, not wanting to be dishonest, but also not wanting to reveal too much about what I already knew. "I didn't know he was adopted. He didn't tell me. I'd only figured it out that morning but, since I'd only met Paul before..." I shrug. "Paul takes after your dad, and you, well..."

Ivana smiled. "I know I take after my mom." She took a free hand and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. "These," she said, pointing to her ears, "and these," she pointed to her eyebrows, "and this," her mouth, "are all that Paul and I have in common. His lips are slightly thinner than mine, though, as I'm sure you've seen, what with Harrison being in your class and all."

I nodded. "Yes, I see."

She sighed. "Am I correct in assuming that Richard didn't inform you of his true parentage, nor the reason for his adoption?"

I shook my head. "No. He said it wasn't the right time yet."

Ivana bit her lip then, considering. "Well, I am inclined to respect his wishes. I mean, he is my brother, after all." We walked into the maze, keeping silent for a few moments before finding a stone bench under an arbor, which we sat under. Roses had entwined themselves around the arbor, but since it was September, there were none to be seen, just an abundance of vines with thorns.

I turned and looked at the impressive hedges around us, and wanted to know one thing from Ivana. Being his sister, she would know this information, as I did about Frank. She seemed to be as close to Richard as I was to Frank, and I would consider it odd if she didn't know the answer to the question that was burning in my mind. "Did Richard ever love anyone?" I asked.

Ivana looked at me, shocked. "What?"

"Has Richard ever been in love?" I clarified.

"You mean, besides with you?" she wanted to know.

I gasped. "What?" I felt my voice squeak out in a moment of confusion and fear, and I wondered how the hell Ivana could have known that. Unless Richard had casually mentioned it to her at the office, or if he'd called her at some point to relay the information, or if Ivana had some sort of experience in psychology, I needed to know—I needed to know all of it, no matter how dirty the laundry. "How do you know that?"

"I'm not blind, Sarah," she replied with a smile. "It's plain to see that my big brother is in love with you."

I shook my head. "I don't see why."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, Ivana. My family is financially stable—hell, we're very comfortable—but all of you... You've got this sprawling mansion with land and beautiful things and I'm..." I bit my lip. "I'm still in the process of paying off the one student loan that I decided to take out. Yes, I have a decent job, and a place to live, but Richard and all of you..." I looked away from her. "He is insanely good looking and he should be dating some blonde goddess who is like some kind of doppelganger to you, but not really because that would be kind of gross, but you know what I mean. I'm not..."

"You actually think you're not worthy of him?" Ivana asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

She shook her head, taking my hand and squeezing it. "You're so worthy of him, Sarah, and I wouldn't say that lightly, I never would. I can't tell you how worthy of him you are—I could try, but I don't think I would be able to put the right words to it. I mean, you're intelligent and friendly and sweet... And I saw the way you looked at him and I saw the way he looked at you. So much love, so much trust..."

I smirk darkly. "Richard didn't by any chance tell you how he and I first met?" I ask, turning back to look at her.

"He said he was dropping Harrison off at school. He said you were a bit short with him and he thought it was sexy."

I feel my cheeks bloom at that, and I try not to laugh. "S-sexy?" I ask, stunned. "Wow. I don't think I've ever..."

"It also have to do with, I think, the appeal of innocence," Ivana nods, looking me up and down, seemingly satisfied. "He's attracted to that as much as he is to intelligence. As far as I can see—and from what he's told me—you possess both of those attributes."

"What comes to mind when you think of Nathan Harper?" I ask, looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

At once, Ivana goes white. She turns away, her mauve dress and fingernails becoming darker than her face. Her eyes are as wide as saucers and she begins to tremble as she considers how to answer me. "Nathan and Richard met one summer while we were vacationing in Pennsylvania—he was there as part of some program. He was shocked when we lived here, too. At the end of the summer, they were inseparable, always sleeping over at each other's houses..."

My mind flashed backwards to the years after John and Gwendolyn had decided to divorce, and how Gwendolyn had kept the house for a few years before moving across the country with her new rich and successful second husband, who would break up the family in more ways than one. I remembered going over to stay at Caroline's house every other weekend, and Caroline would stay at my house on alternative weekends. I remembered one weekend when Caroline and I were celebrating me getting a car, and we got dolled up and went to take it out for a spin together. Caroline had forgotten her bag, and Nathan and some guy I didn't know had come downstairs.

"Hey, Nate," I said, grinning at him.

Nathan grinned back at me, his eyebrows going up and down at the sight of me that night; it was something he never hesitated doing. "Looking good, Sarah!" he said. "Rich, this is Sarah, Caroline's best friend."

My heart nearly stopped at the sight of the drop dead gorgeous guy next to Nathan. "Nice to meet you," I said, putting out my hand.

"Likewise," he replied, and, upon taking his hand, an electric charge seemed to pass between us, before Nathan hauled him out of there...

"One night, when Mom and Dad were out of town—Paul was twenty-five, Richard was twenty-one, and I was seventeen—we all had this big party. Mom and Dad were at this dental conference in Olympia—they described it as a rules and regulations type thing for dental hygienists that Dad was required to attend because he employed so many of them," she said, shrugging her thin shoulders.

"They leave you home alone often?" I ask.

"A few times a year," she replied. "Paul was in the house with Stephanie —they dated for six years before getting married—and Richard was playing some games with some guys. I was getting too tired from all the drunkenness around me—I had, like, two drinks—and so I went out to the pool. Nathan followed me out and, after talking for a while, he convinced me to play strip poker with him, and the loser had to jump in the pool. Nathan cheated, and he stripped me down and threw me into the pool. I thought it was a joke, but then he came in after me, and then he..."

I reach out then, putting a hand on her arm as she breaks down completely. "Ivana, did Nathan rape you?" I ask.

"He sure as hell tried, then," she says quietly. "Beat me up after I got away, and after I tried to tell Paul and Richard. Gave me a black eye and manipulated me into thinking that I was the one who wanted it. A few weeks later, he came over while no one was here. I didn't let him in, and tried to hide, but he found me by the pool again. Then that's what he did..." She buries her face in her hands for a time before raising her head. "I took the offer of a program in New York, and studied culinary over there for a while. It was there that I discovered my pregnancy, and I ended up giving the child up for adoption..."

"Ivana, you did a beautiful thing when you found yourself in an unfortunate situation," I tell her gently.

She shakes her head. "There were complications..."

"Was the baby all right?"

"Not with the baby! Not with my little boy...with me!" she bursts out then, her eyes turning and boring into mine. "It was some doctor new on the job or something, and he fucked up with me. And now all I have to look forward to is to being the next Julia Child..." Her voice breaks, and she looks at a loss for words.

"Why is that all you have to look forward to?" I ask.

She sighs, leaning up against the back wall of the pool house. "Not only did that bastard take my virginity, but he also took my ability to have children," she wails, throwing herself into my arms and sobbing wretchedly. "I can't have another child naturally..." "What the hell is going on here?!" demands a familiar voice, and it is then that Richard steps out from behind the laurel hedges around the pool, his face etched with concern. "Ivana, why would you keep that from me?"

Ivana raises her eyes to her brother, her arms still wrapped around me. "Because you wouldn't understand," she replies.

"The hell I don't," Richard growls back. "Nathan and I got drunk once in college, and he tried to kiss me. Thought it was just a one-time thing, next weekend it happens again. Only this time, he brought along the restraints. Hand cuffs me to the bed and attempts to get me off. I managed to get out of the restraints and to get the hell out of there. Can't tell you how many times I've wanted to see him pay..."

"Richard," I whisper, shaking my head. "Are you kidding me right now?"

He shakes his head. "No. Thought it was just the alcohol in his system, but after I saw what he did to you, and heard what he did to Tabby, and just now with Ivana... We've got a serial predator on our hands, Sarah. Who knows what he's done to other people?" He reaches into his pocket and removes his phone, pressing a number and waiting. "Marlee, bring Timothy and meet us by the pool. We've encountered something."

"A set-back?" I hear her reply on his phone.

"A potential break," he responds.